Birthday
by Busman's Holiday
Summary: Sort of fluff really? I wanted to try a Brendan POV with something a bit more light-hearted although hopefully not out of character. It's Ste's 21st birthday and Brendan has a gift for him.


**Birthday**

"What's this?" Stephen asked. His face was all screwed up into a frown, starting with his crinkled nose.

I put my feet up on the desk and watched him juggle the package in his hands. "What do you think it is?"

"A present…" he said, with an expression of a confused smile.

I smirked a little, resting on my hand. Stephen wasn't first in line when they were handing out common sense. "It is your birthday after all, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he said with a slight nod, "I didn't mention it though,"

"No you didn't," I said, rolling my shoulders into a more comfortable position, "I didn't realise it was top secret information,"

"I'm not really big on me own birthdays," Stephen shrugged, "Never really had parties and things when I were younger,"

He seemed to drift off whenever he talked about the past, I never pried too much. I knew what it was like to have areas of your life bordered off never to be spoken of again. That's how we move on as men.

"It's your twenty first," I said swilling the last of the drink around in the glass. It was barely midday and my second drink. It was the only thing stopping my hands from shaking lately. "I remember…"

Before I had a chance to reminisce, Stephen sniggered. "All right granddad,"

I cocked an eyebrow, standing up and backing him into a corner and lifting the present from his hands. "Well if you don't want it,"

Stephen snatched it back off me, curled his tongue between his teeth and grinned. I folded my arms, waiting and watching against the wall.

Cheryl had suggested a gift from all the staff for Stephen's milestone birthday and given me twenty quid. I bought a naff looking X-Box game and gave it to her to give him although she rolled her eyes at me.

"Brendan!" she'd said, "I wanted to give him something special!"

"It'll do," I'd replied on my way up the stairs.

"What else'd'ya buy?" she said pointing to the department store bag I had.

"Few t-shirts," I'd lied.

Stephen left the ripped paper on the desk and unfolded the shirt in his hands, holding it up. He looked up at me, then back to the shirt.

"It's mint!" he said with a toothy grin. He ran his hand over the fabric, the little zip detail on the pocket. "Proper nice."

I wanted him to have something of quality to wear of a night, not those shiny polyester things he owned. I'd rather see this shirt, its well-stitched and buttoned glory, on my bedroom floor than his Primark usual.

"Thank you," he said, smoothing out the fabric in his hands. "Must have cost a fortune. I've never even heard of this make of shirt before."

Smiling at him, I cleared my throat. "No bother mate," I said.

I stepped closer, using my fingers to push up his fringe and tuck it behind his ear. He locked gaze with me and put his hand on top of mine as it rested on the side of his face. I could feel my hand twitching away in awkwardness, but after a moment he let his hand fall loose.

"Are you gonna try it on?" I asked him, holding myself back from him to keep my urges guarded.

"Now?" Stephen asked.

I leant back against the desk. "It's as good a time as any,"

I watched, a voyeur, as he took off his uniform. Hoodie first off, unzipped and thrown. He watched me eye him up and down then, his skinny body even smaller in that little black t-shirt, pulled his top up and over his head. When he stood there, unbuttoning the new shirt, I could think of little else but fucking him. He knew of course, but he also knew he wasn't the one to pounce.

"Does it look alright?" he asked, looking down at himself when he'd finally finished dressing.

I paced forward, tilting my head from side to side. I ran my hands down the front panel of the shirt and felt him shiver. In his ear was my hot breath, raising the hairs on his neck.

"It looks better off."

And with that, I pushed him until his back smacked against the filing cabinet and he was unbuttoning again, one handed this time. His other hand in my hair, my tongue in his mouth.


End file.
